


one dessert at a time

by mononosik



Category: VICTON (Band)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Baker Seungsik, Cheesy, Food, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm also bad at titles, M/M, Meet-Cute, actually i'm really bad at summaries too sorry, mentions of other victonies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24999583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mononosik/pseuds/mononosik
Summary: Wednesdays are terrible, and the rain isn't helping. But maybe the rain can bring good things to Seungsik, too.aka the one where it's raining, sejun has a big umbrella and seungsik likes to bake
Relationships: Im Sejun/Kang Seungsik
Comments: 19
Kudos: 68
Collections: Lucky 7 Victon





	one dessert at a time

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was: "Sejun holding an umbrella over Seungsik’s head while it rains, and Seungsik sharing his snack with him."
> 
> This is my first fanfic ever, and my first complete try at writing fiction in English. I can't say I'm completely satisfied with it, I definitely think I could have done better. But I'm proud of putting something out, of bringing a finished fic to the table! I'll keep trying and I'll keep working, and hopefully I'll improve with time. I hope y'all like it. 
> 
> I also hope this is good enough for the prompter. Thank you for sending that prompt, we all need more Seungsik/Sejun in our lives!
> 
> Thank you to mods Cheese and Dolphin for organizing this fest. I can't wait to read what everyone else has written!
> 
> Find me on twitter at @mononosik :D I like making friends :)

Seungsik hated Wednesdays. Business was slow and he worked long hours. Wednesday always dragged on for what seemed like an eternity. They were too far away from the weekend to get excited about a well-deserved rest – not that he had any of that, working seven days a week – and too far into the week to have some of that post-weekend energy. Wednesdays were useless. They were the ban of his existence. 

And what if he’d come to that conclusion five minutes ago? It still stood true. 

Maybe the fact that he was drenched, waiting for a bus that couldn’t arrive soon enough, under what felt like the Great Flood, was partly to blame for his newly-found hatred for Wednesdays. It was like the sky suddenly opened and all the water it held fell at once. Obviously he hadn’t checked the predictions that morning. Otherwise he would have known that the clear and crispy air from early 6 am was only a deception for what was to come. Betrayed by his own morning self. What a way to end a Wednesday. 

He was doing his best to protect the box he carried, covering it with his trenchcoat – he may not check the weather every morning but at least he had the common sense to bring some warm clothes when he knew he was going to be working until late. 

He’d given up on himself: he was wet to the bones already. But if his precious cargo could be spared, at least the day wouldn’t be completely ruined. 

Exhausted from the long hours, he let his mind wander, allowing the sound of the rain pounding against the pavement wash away any other sound. He was so immersed in his thoughts, too busy feeling sorry for himself, that he didn’t hear the steps approaching from behind. 

Which was why he didn’t expect the rain to suddenly stop. He was abruptly dragged from his little bubble when the sky turned even darker, way too quickly to be natural, and he stopped feeling the fat drops of water splashing against the back of his neck. He looked up, surprised, only to be met with black. Startled, he dragged his eyes to the side. There, next to him, standing with a smile on his face as if he hadn't appeared out of nowhere, was a stranger holding a big umbrella over the both of them. He was young, probably around Seungsik’s age, slightly taller than him and really, really handsome. In fact, handsome felt like an understatement. He had a straight nose, a jawline sharp enough to cut paper, and even with the barely-there side-smile he was sporting, Seungsik could see the beginnings of a dimple. In short: he was screwed. 

Maybe the man really was so beautiful as to make him lose the ability to speak, or maybe he was just tired. In any case, his mind went blank and he kept looking, mouth slightly open. He stared long enough for the stranger to take it upon himself to break the silence.

“I hope it’s okay. I saw you standing there and I thought I could help a little. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he shrugged and graced him with a small apologetic smile. And. 

_Oh. The dimple._ What had been a mere hint a few seconds ago was now a full-fledged dimple, deeper than any other he had seen before. And that was a bold statement, given he was friends with Chan. It definitely didn’t help him stop gaping. In fact, he would have been content to stare at the man’s cheeks for the rest of the night. Fortunately, the gods of Terrible Wednesday seemed to take pity on him and decided not to make him suffer even more. He recovered enough senses to answer – or at least, attempt to. 

“N-No it’s okay,” he stuttered. He cursed himself. What a great first impression. 

_Get it together, Sik. You are capable of human speech._ He wasn’t about to look like a fool in front of the most good-looking person he’d seen in ages.

“I was just surprised,” he added, hoping to justify his fish-like behavior. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

He wanted to slap himself in the face. Hiding behind his hands would have been a nice alternative too, if said hands weren’t occupied holding a box that had miraculously been spared from the merciless rain. He really needed to get a grip on himself if he wanted to stop being embarrassing in front of a semi-god, or whatever that man was. He certainly wasn't human.

He realized he got caught up staring again, which wasn’t very polite of him. Especially since the other had saved him from standing coverless in the rain.

“Thank you,” he finally said, as an afterthought. “For sharing your umbrella, I mean”. 

“It’s nothing,” the man dismissed. He seemed sincere too. “I have to wait for my bus too and this thing is big enough for the both of us. It’s the least I could do.”

“I should have looked the weather predictions this morning instead of trusting the sky.” For some reason, Seungsik felt the need to justify himself. It was of the utmost importance that this man, who he knew nothing about, didn’t take him for a careless and reckless fool who didn’t do responsible adult things like check the weather in the morning. Which he didn’t do, but that was beside the point. “If I had known it would rain, I would have brought my own umbrella.”

The man waved his hand, as if it wasn’t a big deal. 

“I didn’t really check the weather neither. I just always bring my umbrella with me,” he said, like an umbrella was an accessory one would wear like a watch or a bag.

“You always carry your umbrella with you,” Seungsik couldn’t help but ask, doubtful. It wasn’t like this time of year was particularly rainy and such a big umbrella seemed like a hassle to carry around all day just in case it started raining suddenly. 

“Of course,” he cried, like it was obvious. “How am I gonna provide assistance to cute boys if I don’t have it with me?”

Seungsik’s mind went into overdrive at these words. His first reaction was to wonder what kind of reason that was to carry an umbrella every day. He definitely wasn’t expecting this explanation, and he wanted to ask if he really met cute people in need of shelter often enough to justify bringing it with him every day. Then the second half of the sentence sunk in and everything went into a halt. 

“You... You think I’m cute?”

He felt the back of his neck go warm and he was sure that if he could see himself, the tips of his ears would be red. It wasn’t the first time someone called him cute. In fact, people often told him he resembled a puppy – and there was nothing cuter than a puppy. He didn’t consider himself unattractive, neither. He had a healthy self-esteem and he wasn’t completely unused to people flirting with him. But it was different when it came from one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen. And when it as the end of a very long, very tiring Wednesday. He’d already been off-balance from the start but this was the last push he needed to be completely thrown off his game. How was he supposed to act like a normal person after this? 

“Well, yeah,” the man replied, not a bit shy. “You’re definitely the cutest boy I’ve seen this week!”

Seungsik couldn’t help but giggle. He always felt a boost of happiness when someone complimented him and he couldn’t stop himself from showing it. He knew what he looked like when he felt giddy like that: noise crunched and smile straight out of an emoji. Seungwoo always told him it made him look adorable. Chan, on the other hand, teased him for it. But then again, Chan always found reasons to tease him, so that didn’t mean much. He personally thought it made him look like a little kid, which wasn’t exactly the impression he wanted to leave on the other man.

The guy was apparently satisfied with the reaction his words elicited. He wasn’t looking smug exactly, but Seungsik could definitely see he was pleased with himself. Somehow that sparkled the competitive spirit in him – he wasn’t going to let a pretty boy get the best of him. He had some fight in him yet.

“My name is Seungsik, by the way,” he found the bravado to introduce himself. “I guess you should know, since you saved me from the rain.”

That sounded like something a normal human would said. He was proud of himself. 

“I’m Sejun.” And there it was, that smile again, with _the dimple_. All his accomplishments in terms of resembling a functioning person able to carry a proper conversation with another fellow human flew out of the window once he saw the dimple again. It truly was a formidable weapon, one that Seungsik was powerless to resist. He wondered if the man – Sejun, Sejun was his name, and it sounded strangely fitting – was aware of the effect the dimple had on others. Then again, maybe other people weren’t rendered useless by such things. 

And there he was again, staring like a freak. God knew he usually was the normal one in his group of friends, or at least the _most_ normal one – if he said so himself – but he couldn’t seem to act as himself. He always was the talkative one, but tonight he kept forgetting to actually speak in favor of looking. _Oh, but the view is great._

Sejun had actually been taking his awkward silences with grace, looking at him with warm eyes and a pleased smile – which was totally unfair, in Seungsik’s opinion, because one couldn’t be this good-looking and also nice – not at all bothered by the deranged man who barely could string two words together. He was probably used to causing that reaction, leaving speechless people and broken hearts in his wake. So maybe Seungsik was being a little over-dramatic, but he was tired and puzzled, and he found comfort in thinking that his was a completely normal reaction.

Case in point, Sejun went on as if he didn’t have a strange man gawking at him. “Have you been waiting the bus for long,” he asked. 

Seungsik was taken off guard by the question – and truly, it didn't warrant so much surprise, considering it was a very normal question to ask someone who was waiting for the same bus – but at least it gave him something else to focus his attention away from the dimple. 

“Oh! Hmm,” carefully, he balanced the box on one hand to look at his watch. “Maybe ten minutes or so? I wasn’t really paying attention to the time. It seems I’ve been standing here for hours.”

“Yeah, time seems to drag when it rains.” 

It didn’t seem to bother him much. He hummed under his breath and kept going

“Since it’s late, we’ll probably have to wait a bit more,” he added as an afterthought. 

Seungsik sighed. “Tell me about it. If it wasn’t this late, well, and also raining, I would have gone home walking. That’s what I do most days.”

“Stayed until late tonight? Work to catch up to?”

“Something like that,” he answered, tired. If only he actually spent the extra hours in the kitchen, he wouldn’t be so drained. 

“Wednesdays are accounting days,” he clarified. He scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t like Wednesdays.”

“Accounting?” Sejun tilted his head slightly, and Seungsik chased the thought that he looked like a puppy out of his mind.

“Well, someone has to do it,” he whined. He hated doing the numbers. “I should probably hire someone to do it for me but the bakery is fairly new and I haven’t had the time to look into it yet…”

“Bakery?” Sejun suddenly perked up, and truly, he had no business resembling an overexcited dog. He was handsome and seemed nice enough, he didn’t need to be unfairly cute on top of that. 

Seungsik realized he’d been ranting. He was torn between being embarrassed about complaining about work to a complete stranger and being relieved that he finally could form complete sentences. The good thing was that he wasn’t staring dumbly anymore. The bad thing was that he had a tendency to ramble when he was nervous. And it had been a long time since someone had flustered him as much as Sejun had.

“Oh, sorry,” he said sheepishly. He was still balancing the box with only one hand, so he used the other one to point a thumb behind them, in the general direction of the bakery. “I own the bakery down there, between the chinese restaurant and the bookstore. We opened a few months ago.”

At this, Sejun’s eyes lighted up like a kid on Christmas morning. “ _Crumbs_? You’re the owner?”

“Yes,” he answered. He tried to suppress a smile, not wanting to look prideful, but he couldn’t stop himself. Just thinking about his bakery, which he’d pour sweat and literal blood on, still felt surreal. It actually had been a dream of his for years, and after months of exhausting work, it finally came true. “Have you been there?”

“Oh yeah!” Sejun nodded enthusiastically. “I walk in front of it every day on my way to class.”

“Class?” Seungsik repeated. “Are you a student? Or a teacher?” 

Sejun seemed to be around his age. He definitely didn’t looked like a rookie college student, at the very least he seemed to be in his early mid-twenties. 

“Oh no, I’m still a student,” Sejun said. “I’m studying to be a teacher, actually.”

“Teaching, that’s commendable. Small kids or high school?”

“Not teenagers,” he laughed. “They would eat me alive. No, I’m studying early childhood education.”

“You must be good with kids, then”, Seungsik said.

“Yeah, I liked them I guess,” Sejun answered with a fond smile, clearly downsizing his feelings. 

_He really likes kids, uh_ , Seungsik thought and he hated the fact that it made him ten times more attractive than he already was.

“I actually started majoring in psychology,” Sejun added. “But it wasn’t for me. A few years into it I thought about it and decided to change my major.” 

Which explained why he seemed older than most of the college students Seungsik saw in the bakery. It’s not like he was much older than them himself, having finished his business degree a couple of years before, but sometimes he felt decades older. It seemed like a lifetime ago since was he the same as them, studying late into the night and cramming for finals. Working and planning non-stop for months to open his own business had definitely taken a toll on him. 

“It’s not easy to change paths when you’ve already started,” he said softly. He’d always known what he wanted to do, but he knew plenty of people who had been unsure of where they wanted their career to go. “I’m glad you’re doing something you like now.”

It was a bit too much to say to a complete stranger. He knew that. He’d always had a tendency to be too honest with his empathy, but he couldn’t help it. Strangers or not, he genuinely wanted those around him to be happy.

Thankfully, Sejun wasn’t put off by his sincerity. Rather, he seemed touched by his words. “Thank you. I’m glad too.” 

He went quiet for a moment, probably not knowing how to keep the conversation going after this, but he soon found a way to break the weird tension between them. “I’m actually studying for finals now, that’s why I’m here so late. I have a test this Friday. After this, I’ll be graduating.” 

“You’re nearly done then,” Seungsik exclaimed. “That’s amazing!”

“Well it’s not amazing until I’ve actually passed the test,” he said. Sejun seemed a bit embarrassed now that he was the one on the receiving end of compliments. His former bravado was gone, now replaced by a shy smile. 

Clearly not wanting to dwell on the topic, he went on. “You, on the other hand, are a business owner. That’s impressive. And let me tell you, the strawberry tarts you sell are to die for.”

“Thank you,” Seungsik wanted to argue that he shouldn’t downplay his achievements, but praise was an effective distraction on him and he felt pleased to the bones when someone complimented his baking. “I didn’t know if people would like them, but my friend have always told me they’re great so I decided to put them on the menu.”

“Wait a second,” Sejun nearly yelled. “You’re the baker?”

“Yes,” he said, slowly. He had thought he had been clear about it being his bakery, after all. “I told you, I own the bakery.”

“Well yes,” Sejun spluttered. He could be wrong, but Seungsik was pretty sure he could see the tips of his ears going red from embarrassment. “I thought you were the owner, the boss, the big head, you know, whatever. I didn’t think you’d be the baker too.” 

He was now looking at Seungsik like he’d just told him he saved little kittens from trees for a living. Seungsik didn’t know if being a baker warranted such a reaction, but he couldn’t deny that he felt pleased, being looked at this way. 

“Woah…” Sejun said, like baking was the most amazing thing he’d ever heard. “And you bake everything?”

“Most of it, yes,” he answered. “I’m training someone to help me, though, because we’re getting more clients and I can’t keep up by myself.”

“Woah…” he repeated, still impressed. “Really, everything you do is good.”

Seungsik let out a giggle and he looked down to hide his satisfied smile. “Thank you.”

He felt himself blush. He was acting like a high school student in front of his crush but there was no denying that he felt warm to his stomach after hearing compliments about his baking. It was a proof that all his hard work paid off. It didn’t hurt that it came from a very attractive and very nice man, neither.

“How come I’ve never seen you before, though,” Sejun wondered. “I’ve been there a few times and I don’t think I’ve seen you.”

“I spend of my time working in the kitchen,” he explained. “I have someone managing the front for me. I mostly come out to help during peak hours, so maybe you didn’t notice me.”

“Oh, believe me, I would remember you,” Sejun didn’t miss a beat. He even had the audacity to wink. 

It was an incredibly overused line, but Seungsik bit back an undignified squeal. It had been a long time since someone had so openly hit on him. He’d been so busy with the bakery that he hadn’t had time to get out and meet new people. Sure, some clients looked at him like he was the dessert. Or at least that was what Subin, his employee and the ban of his existence – not really though – told him. He often had too much on his mind to pay attention to the people in the shop, outside of sending polite and friendly smiles their ways and wishing them a happy day. It’s not like he didn’t mean it, there just were so many things to do, he could barely remember what the previous order had been, let alone if someone tried to flirt with him. 

But here, Sejun had his full attention and he kept saying things that made his heart flutter and his cheeks burn. 

Sejun didn’t give him time to recover before he added, “Anyway, now that I know you’ll be there I’ll have to come back and see you in your element.”

“If you come in the afternoon I’ll probably be manning the front.” Seungsik tried to sound confident – he was after all also capable of flirting, or so he wanted to think – but instead it came out shy and meek. 

Sejun was quick to step up his game. “I’ll be sure to come at the right time then. Nothing better than to treat myself with something sweet... and enjoy the company of a cute boy.”

Seungsik scoffed. He wanted nothing more than to play it cool, but inside he was screaming like a teenager who just got asked to prom by their crush. How was he supposed to pretend he could actually keep a conversation if Sejun insisted on calling him “cute boy”? 

“Who says I’ll give you company,” he objected. He sounded weak even to his own ears, but he couldn’t go without a fight. “Maybe I just want you to buy my products. I have bills to pay, you know.”

Sejun laughed, clearly seeing his facade for what it was. He looked like he was enjoying their banter, though. By the way he started to smile with mischief, Seungsik knew more was coming. 

“I’ll buy all the pastries you need to pay rent.”

Seungsik blinked in disbelief for a second before bursting out in laughter. 

“Oh my god,” he wheezed, “that was so cheesy.” 

Sejun looked proud of himself. He quickly joined him, laughing with his head tilted back. It was an innocent gesture, but it highlighted his profile in a way that had Seungsik nearly choking on his own laughter. 

While he recovered, Sejun let out a few chuckles, wiping his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, still a little breathless. “I hope I didn’t come on too hard.”

“No, it’s okay,” Seungsik replied. It was true that it had been too much for his muddled brain, but it felt good to be the object of his attentions. It wasn’t every day that such agood-looking person flirted with him. “I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good to catch the attention of an attractive man.”

“So you think I’m attractive then, uh” Sejun asked, mirroring Seungsik’s earlier question. Instead of stuttering, though, he was full of confidence, wiggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. 

Before Seungsik could find a witty comeback, a light suddenly came from the end of the street and shone upon them. The bus couldn’t have come at a better time. Even if he was starting to feel a little bit more like himself, he wasn’t sure how he could answer that without blurting something embarrassing like “you’re the most beautiful man I’ve seen in my life”. 

Instead, he voiced the obvious. “The bus is there.”

Sejun hummed under his breath. He was still sporting a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying their back-and-forth. He didn’t say anything, just waited patiently next to Seungsik, still holding the umbrella over the both of them, until the bus finally stopped in front of them. 

Keeping silent, they both stepped inside the bus, welcoming the dry and warm air, and each paid their fare. By silent and mutual accord, they both went to the far back. The bus was mostly empty, only a few late-workers probably just as irritated by the rain as Seungsik had been scattered across the space. Without a word, they decided to stick together. Seungsik took a seat by the window, his untouched box carefully placed on his knees, while Sejun took the aisle side, backing his wet umbrella against the plastic seat. 

For a while, it was quiet between them, but not uncomfortable. They both took a moment to enjoy being out of the cold air, content in each other’s presence. 

Just when Seungsik was starting to regret their earlier banter and thinking about a way to resume their conversation, he heard a low rumble coming from his side. Surprised, he checked his companion, who was covering his belly with his hands and looked at him sheepishly. 

“Sorry,” he said. His shy tone was a complete one-eighty from the confidence he’d shown outside. “I haven’t eaten anything in hours. I lost track of time while studying.”

Seungsik just nodded. He could remember the long hours spent studying, no distractions allowed except for the few breaks he took to eat some of the snacks he used to prepare himself. He’d always been popular among his friends for bringing all kinds of muffins for studying sessions. Since he was young, baking had been his way of dealing with stress, and he had never been as productive as when final season came around each semester. 

“You don’t have snacks with you when you study,” he asked.

Sejun sighed. “I usually do, but I forgot them today.”

“I guess bringing the umbrella filled the ‘being prepared for everything’ quota,” he said, feeling he had the upper hand this time in the teasing competition.

But he was wrong. He was so wrong. Hunger forgotten, Sejun didn’t miss the chance to mess with him again and with the goofiest smile, he launched his attack. “In that case I can’t say I regret it then, since it got me talking to you.”

For the nth time in the last thirty minutes, Seungsik felt his face go warm in a second. Unable to come up with a reply, he resorted to hide being his hand like a kid. He couldn’t believe a guy he’d met not even an hour before was making him blush this much with barely a few sentences.

He whined. “Stop that!”

The other laughed out loud, making a few head turn in their direction. Seungsik looked down while using his other hand for cover, trying to look small. He didn’t want anyone else to witness how much of a mess he was.

“I’m sorry,” Sejun said with the last of his laughter. He didn’t sound sorry at all. “You’re cute when you’re blushing.”

“This must be fun to you,” Seungsik grumbled. The tips of his ears still felt hot and he tried not to think about how he felt his stomach flutter at being called cute once again. He refused to call it butterflies, but that’s exactly what they were.

“Sorry,” he repeated. He sounded more sincere this time around. “I’m not mocking you. I really find you cute.”

To be fair, Sejun did look like he meant it and his tone held no malice. He actually sounded fond, as if Seungsik’s embarrassment was endearing to him. Seungsik once again ignored the compliment in order to recover some dignity. He used a hand to fan himself – he no longer cared about looking unbothered. The other could clearly see how much he was affected by his bad lines, there was no need to keep pretenses. 

Before he could find something else to say, Sejun’s stomach protested again. This time the grumble was louder, and Sejun couldn’t hold a grimace. 

Seungsik couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh,” he said. “You must be hungry.”

Sejun sighed. “Yeah… I didn’t eat much at lunch and it’s been hours since then.”

He looked defeated. It was late evening and lunch was all but forgotten. Even Seungsik was feeling a little bit hungry, and he had access to all kinds of pastries all day long. He wasn’t one for snacking much – he spent so much of his time cooking and baking that it mostly kept hunger at bay. Still, whenever he wanted, he could just eat something from his kitchen.

Sympathetic, he lifted his box and gave it to Sejun.

“Here,” he said. “Eat something.”

Sejun’s eyes went back-and-forth between the box and Seungsik a couple of times, not sure if he was really allowed to take it, before accepting it into his hands. He put on his knees and carefully opened it. Inside were a few mismatched pastries: a few muffins, a couple of croissants and a combination of mini-tarts. _None are strawberry_ , Seungsik thought and he was strangely disappointed that he couldn’t offer what the other had mentioned in passing earlier. 

It didn’t seem to bother Sejun, who was gawking at the inside of the box with a delighted face. 

“Everything looks amazing,” he almost shouted, remembering at the last minute there were other people in the bus. “What’s this? Were you saving it for something special?”

“Not really,” Seungsik said. “These are just the day-old pastries or the ugly ones I can’t sell.”

Sejun let out a gasp. “Ugly ones?” 

He sounded distressed, as if someone implying that a pastry could look ugly was unfathomable.

“But all of these look amazing,” he cried out.

Seungsik shrugged. He knew they didn’t look terrible, but he wanted to offer nothing but the best for his clients and he refused to serve anything subpar. He was good enough at his job that he didn’t have many bad ones. Most of what he brought home were things he made in excess and couldn’t sell by the end of the day. Some things were fine sitting overnight, but others lost their appeal after a day. Those were the ones he brought home with him.

“I usually give them out to my old neighbor,” he explained. “She often has friends coming for some sort of poker game – I honestly don’t want to know. But yeah, anyway, I just give them to her since they’re still good enough and she’s a nice lady.”

“Whoah”, Sejun exclaimed. “You’re the best neighbor ever!”

He looked like an over-excited kid meeting a firefighter or some kind of hero for the first time, all eagerness and wide-eyed wonder. 

“Not at all”, he brushed off. “It’s a win-win situation for both of us.”

Sejun tilted his head to the side, bringing once more the image of a puppy to Seungsik’s mind.

“She sometimes shares her food when ‘she makes too much’,” he air-quoted. “But I suspect she just likes to feed me.”

He laughed. His neighbor was a rough woman who liked to act tough, but he suspected she was the kind of person who took care of everyone around her. A little bit like him.

“But it’s not much honestly,” he said. “They’d end up wasted otherwise.”

Sejun was humming in assent to show he was listening, although he was looking at the pastries with forlorn eyes, as if he wanted nothing more than to reach inside but he didn’t dare to do so. It was endearing.

Seungsik gave a little tap to the side of the box. “Go ahead. Eat something before the whole bus hears your stomach’s cries for help.”

Sejun shoot him a glare. As if to prove a point, another loud rumble came from his stomach. He pouted, looking at his belly, annoyed at being betrayed by his own body. Seungsik thought it made him look like an angry kitten. 

He wasn’t stubborn for long. He sighed and reached inside the box. Before he could touch anything, though, he stopped himself.

“Is it okay,” he asked, genuine concern lacing his words. “They’re for you neighbor. Won’t she mind?”

“It’s perfectly okay,” Seungsik answered. “It’s not like I always have things for her, and she’s happy with whatever I bring.”

“Don’t mind me then,” he replied, reassured.

“Go ahead,” Seungsik insisted.

Sejun didn’t need to be told twice. With a look of pure glee on his face, he took out one of the mini tarts out the box – this one was apple – and proceeded to eat it with gusto. He looked like a squirrel, putting the entire thing in his mouth and chewing loudly.

Seungsik didn’t know if he should be disgusted by the sight or amazed at the speed with which he had downed the whole tart. He also realized he should probably stop comparing Sejun to cute animals.

“You really were hungry, uh,” he whispered in wonder.

The other heard him, and he stopped chewing in favor of sending a sheepish smile his way. He didn’t look embarrassed in the least, though.

“Sorry,” he said, not apologetic at all. “I just… enjoy eating. And I’m enjoying these very very much.”

He chumped on his tart a few times for good measure before gulping it down with a satisfied and long exhale. 

“Really, this is so good,” he said while licking his fingers. “You’re such a good baker.” 

He sounded so sincere that Seungsik felt touched. It wasn’t that he doubted his abilities as a baker – he was very good at his job, thank you very much. But he always appreciated positive feedback, and Sejun was clearly enjoying himself. This was exactly why he’d always wanted to bake for a living: there was something immensely gratifying about bringing joy to others with something he had made with his own hands. 

“Thank you,” he simply said. He didn’t need to know how much his words meant to him.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, only interrupted by the sounds of Sejun eating and letting out pleased sighs. 

After he was done, he closed the box and crossed his arms on top of it, laying back against his seat in satisfaction. 

“Feeling better,” Seungsik asked.

“A lot better,” he answered. “Thank you.”

He closed his eyes, content now that his stomach had been tamed. He looked like someone with no worries, enjoying a nice evening with no cares in the world. 

Seungsik took the chance to watch to his heart content, scrutinizing every detail of his face. He had been handsome outside the bus stop, under the rain and the faint light of a nearby street lamp. In the bus, though, he could appreciate every detail. 

_This is unfair_ , he pondered. He was beautiful. If he hadn’t experienced first hand how nice and funny he was, he would have been intimidated by his too-perfect-to-be-true looks. His jawline was tantalizing, and Seungsik fought the urge to test exactly how sharp it was with his own fingers. The dimple was there, too. It was faint, just a hint of it over his slightly upturned lips, but it was a reminder of how deep it was when he full out smiled. 

He probably looked like a creep, ogling the other man shamelessly. But Sejun was presenting himself so nicely, like an open book inviting him to read him and take in every single detail. 

He wanted to talk to him, wanted to know more about him, but he was loath to break the easy silence between them. Sejun was bound to be tired after countless hours of studying, and he himself was drained after a long Wednesday. A silent ride wasn’t a bad day to end a long and taxing day.

He didn’t have to deliberate for long about whether he should something or not. A few moments later, a distorted voice came from the speakers on top of them, announcing the next stop. Sejun opened his eyes and straightened up.

“This is my stop,” he said. His voice was softer than before, no doubt unwilling to break the gentle peace between them.

Seungsik felt his smile drop, replaced by a pout. He hid it before he made it too obvious how disappointed he was about seeing the other go, but he wasn’t quick enough to escape Sejun’s notice. 

“It’s not a long ride,” he pointed out, uselessly. The time had went too fast in his presence.

“It isn’t,” Sejun replied. “I usually walk. I was too tired tonight.”

Seungsik nodded, having nothing more to add. The atmosphere felt gloomy, suddenly. He didn’t feel like letting go. He looked outside the window, watching the cars go by to distract himself from the irrational regret he felt at seeing Sejun go. Belatedly, he noticed it had finally stopped raining. It felt ironic that the sky started to clear out now that he was feeling somber himself. 

He turned when he felt Sejun moving next to him. He was standing up, getting ready to get off at the stop. Seungsik felt some sort of urgency at the pit of his stomach, a need to say something before they parted ways, but he didn’t know where to start. So he just kept quiet. 

“Thank you again”, Sejun told him, handing the box back to him. 

Seungsik shaked his head slightly. “It’s okay, keep it. You’ll have something to eat when you’re studying.”

Sejun hesitated for a second, before taking it back and smiling gratefully. “Thanks.”

The bus started to slow down, the stop finally in sight and approaching faster than either of them wanted. Their eyes met and they kept staring at each other, unsure of how to part. 

Sejun finally broke the silence. “Goodbye, then.”

“Goodbye,” he replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Good luck with your finals.”

“Thanks. I’m ready to be done with them.”

Before any of them could add anything, the bus came to a stop, doors opening behind Sejun. With one last smile, he stepped outside and waved at him.

“See you around,” he shouted. 

Seungsik could only raise a hand, fingers half raised, before the doors closed again, hiding him from view. Defeated, he let it fall on his lap. He felt discouraged and empty now that he was alone. Which was ridiculous, considering he always got home alone. 

Sejun’s presence tonight had disturbed his quiet routine, sending him into a turmoil of emotions. It had been nice, to feel appreciated, to be praised both for his skills and for his looks. He wasn’t as shallow as to fall for someone based on a few pick-up lines, but he couldn’t deny Sejun had made him feel a thrill he hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

He had been friendly, not too serious, and fun to be around. He had such a kind aura about him, too. Seungsik didn’t think of himself as particularly spiritual, nor did he believe he had a sixth sense, but he could get a good read on people. His instincts usually didn’t betray him, and he had received nothing but good vibes from Sejun. He seemed flirty but honest. _And, god, he’s so good-looking._

He dropped his head against the window, ignoring the loud _thump_ and the dull pain on his skull. He felt stupid, getting so moody because of a pretty boy. 

_I didn’t even ask for his phone number_. He grunted out loud, mad at himself. He finally met someone interesting, someone who seemed just as interested in him, and he didn’t even think about asking for a number. How was he supposed to “see him around”, with no way of contacting him? Sure, he knew what and where he studied – there was only one college in the area they’d been, after all – and he knew his name, but he couldn’t go asking around. That was definitely creep behavior. 

At least Sejun knew where to find him, if he wanted to. The ball was is his court now, and Seungsik could do nothing but wait and hope this wasn’t the last he’d see of him. 

He spent the rest of the bus ride brooding, alternating between berating himself for not asking for a few digits and feeling ridiculous for being so sad about the missed opportunity. It was just a random guy, after all. 

A couple of stops later, when he finally heard the announce for his, he got up, relieved to have something else to think about it. He could finally get home and leave the exhausting day behind. Maybe he would finally stop thinking about deep dimples and pretty smile once he got into bed.

Stepping over the aisle sit, he stepped onto something with his foot. Looking down, he saw the big, black umbrella Sejun had been carrying. In his excitement about getting to keep the box of pastries, he’d forgotten about it. 

Seungsik bent down to pick it. He could give it to the driver, who would probably take it back to a lost and found center, where Sejun could ask for it. But then again, would he go to so much trouble to find an umbrella? Would he even know where to find it? It was better if he kept it, he reasoned, in the chance that Sejun would actually come around his bakery as he’d promised. 

That sounded reasonable. It was better if he kept it with him, instead of losing it to the dark void of the lost and found system. Who knew where it would end otherwise.

Decision made, he waited for the bus to halt and got off, breathing in the fresh air, still humid with the aftermaths of the rain. The night hadn’t gone as planned, but he couldn’t really complain, despite how dissatisfied he felt about how he’d parted ways with Sejun. 

There was nothing he could do about it, except hope that Sejun had been just as infatuated with him as Seungsik had been, and wait for him to come around the bakery. At least his invitation had been clear. 

Resolved to not let the issue get a hold on him anymore, he forced himself to think about different things on his short walk home from the bus stop. He mulled about the new recipe he wanted to try and how he could actually afford to pay someone to do the boring stuff for him. He’d gotten a business degree out of necessity, because he wanted to be able to run the bakery by himself, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed spending hours immersed in numbers. He’d been taking care of it himself because the bakery was brand new and he had to cut expenses anywhere he could, but now that things were going well and business was picking up, he could manage to hire someone to do it for him, even if it was only once a week. He was also considering increasing Subin’s hours, giving him more autonomy on the front side of the bakery – the kid had good ideas and was a complete success with the clients. 

Successfully distracted, he made it home in a short time. Once inside, he carefully propped to umbrella against the door so he wouldn’t forget it the next day, and then went on with his evening routine. It was too late to cook a proper meal, so he rummaged around his fridge to find some leftovers he ate leaning against his kitchen counter. 

After that, he took a nice, long shower to wash off the grim of the day. On any given day he would spend some time catching up on the latest episode of whatever drama he was into, but it was late and he was particularly tired. He wanted nothing more than to wrap himself like a burrito and spend the whole night sleeping. And so, after drying himself and washing his teeth, he did just that. Surrounded by his warm blanket, feeling his body finally relax on his comfortable mattress, he closed his eyes thinking about how another day had passed. And if the last thing he remembered before falling asleep was a dimple and a cheeky smile, then it was nobody’s business.

o - o - o - o - o - o

A few days later, Seungsik was buried deep in pastries of all sort, hair disheveled and covered in floor. The day had started as a normal Saturday, which meant busier than usual, but by mid-morning things had started to pick up and now he felt like he’d never had so much work since the opening. He couldn’t remember any holiday approaching that would justify such a burst in activity, but he wouldn’t complain. It was good for business, after all.

He was just putting a batch of cinnamon rolls in the oven when Subin poked his head around the door.

“Boss,” he called. “Someone’s asking for you.”

That was new. People mostly wanted to talk with him to place a special order, but they either directly called the number he had specially for that or Subin took care of it in the front.

“Did they tell you what they want?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “He said you have something of his.”

Seungsik couldn’t come up with who it could be. Sure, he had borrowed a book or two from Seungwoo last week, but he would never come to the bakery to ask for them. He would only nag him via text message, asking what he thought about them. Besides, Subin knew Seungwoo. He’d practically been adopted by all of his friends already. 

Short of options, he checked the timer for his rolls before following Subin towards the front of the bakery. He shrugged. “I don’t know who it could be”. 

On his way, he looked down at himself and saw he was covered in flour. He usually was a clean baker, he didn’t like his space to be in disarray, but it’d been such a crazy day that he’d forgotten to keep himself in check. Patting himself down to get rid of some of it, he made it to the front, where the counter neatly displayed the options for the day.

He didn’t expect to find Sejun when he looked up. He hadn’t forgotten about him – how could he? It had only been a few days, which he had spent randomly thinking about the handsome man with the cute dimple and the nice laugh. On Thursday, the day after that out of the ordinary night, he’d been checking the front door constantly, perking up like a dog every time the bell chimed. Subin had been suspicious about it, but he’d managed to keep it quiet. He knew if one of his friends found out, he would never live it down. And Sejun never ended up coming anyway, so what was the point of getting excited anyway? 

So, no, he hadn’t exactly forgotten about him, but he definitely had lost hopes of seeing him again. And yet there he was, in all his glory, looking even better in the light of day. He was smiling shyly and he raised his hand in a tiny wave in greeting.

“Hi,” he said. “I was promised a cute baker if I came in the afternoon.”

He did say he came out more in the afternoon, didn’t he? He usually took more time off the kitchen, mostly so Subin could clock out earlier and go to study or do whatever young people did these days. Today had been too busy to allow that, though, and he’d spend hours in the kitchen baking more batches of cupcakes and rolls to keep the supply. 

Still, he had a hard time believing he was really there, and with another bad line at that. He probably should feel annoyed at being disturbed in the middle of his work, but Seungsik felt warm and happy inside, the butterflies once again fluttering around in his stomach.

“I guess I promised that,” he said, unable to keep the happy smile off his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he repeated, laughing. 

They looked at each other for what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds, both them smiling in delight, until a cough interrupted them.

“So I guess you know each other,” Subin said, a suspicious tone in his voice. Seungsik knew that tone, and also the look that accompanied it. It was the “I’m gonna tell Chan and Seungwoo about this and there’s nothing you can do to stop me” kind of smile, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all good,” he waved him off. “Get back to work!”

Subin just laughed, clearly not in the least intimidated by him, but he did as asked and turned around to take care of the bakery. Some tables were in need of cleaning, and Seungsik always asked him to keep everything tidy and orderly. Subin didn’t mind, and he was still within earshot of them. Seungsik knew he was gonna eavesdrop on them, but he could do nothing about it. 

“So,” Sejun called for his attention. “I think you may have my umbrella.”

Seungsik turned to look at him, blinking. The nice and warm feeling that had appeared when he’d lay his eyes on Sejun started to turn sour. Was this the only reason he came? To ask for his umbrella? Granted, Seungsik had kept it exactly in case this scenario came to be, but that didn’t mean he felt great about it. 

“Oh,” he let out, unable to keep the disappointment from lacing his words. “Yes, I have it here actually.”

He pointed in the general direction of the kitchen, where another door lead to his personal office. He’d brought the umbrella with him the day after the encounter, in hopes of giving it back. And if he daydreamed about finding Sejun in the rain and actually being the one to shelter him this time, nobody needed to know. 

He forced a smile. “I’ll bring it to you.”

He was about to turn round and retreat, tail between his legs, when Sejun stopped him.

“Wait,” he exclaimed. “I didn’t come for this.”

“You didn’t,” he asked, confused.

“Well, yeah, I actually would love that umbrella back. It was expensive, you know,” he said. “There’s something else, though.”

Seungsik regarded him with suspicion. “Something else?”

“Well, you see,” Sejun started, a mischievous smile on his handsome face. “I was told a certain baker, a very cute one at that, needed help to pay the bills. So I came to buy all the pastries I could find.” 

Seungsik gaped at him for a second before bursting out in laughter. Maybe he was feeling more confident, now that he was in his element, but he didn’t feel nearly as off-balanced as he’d felt the other night, when all he had managed was to be a mumbling mess.

His outburst earned him a few curious looks and raised eyebrows from some of the customers. Subin was pretending to mind his own business, while not losing a bit of the conversation. 

“I think you’d get a bad stomach before you could eat all that,” he said, when he finally calmed down. 

“I still could try,” Sejun insisted. “I would hate it if you missed rent because of me.” 

“Yeah, okay,” he laughed. “How about we start small, uh? One dessert at a time.”

Sejun smiled so bright and big that Seungsik felt like the sun was shining directly in his eyes. “One dessert at a time sounds good.”

Seungsik didn’t have time to dwell on sunny smiles and beautiful dimples because he was taken down back to earth by the sounds of Subin approaching. He passed him by without saying a word, but the spark in his eyes told him he wouldn’t get out of this without a major teasing. Oh, well. He could endure it.

He suddenly remembered something. “How was your test?”

“Oh!” Sejun seemed genuinely surprised that he had remembered that detail. Seungsik wouldn’t admit that he’d re-played their conversations a few times since Wednesday night.

“It went well,” he said. “At least I think so. That’s why I didn’t come before, I was getting the last of my studying done.”

Seungsik felt mortified at having been so hung up over a stranger who hadn’t come like promised, when said stranger had told him he had a test to take. In retrospect, it made sense he hadn’t come to see him. He was busy, too.

Deciding he would scold himself later, he clapped his hands a couple of times in congratulations. “This deserves a celebration, don’t you think? Why don’t you pick something to eat? It’s on the house.”

“No, come one,” Sejun whined. “How am I gonna pay your bills if you give it to me for free?”

“You’re really gonna keep that up,” he asked.

“Of course,” he said, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. “I am a man of my word, after all.”

Seungsik shaked his head, amused. It was so ridiculous that he didn’t even know what to make of it. But at least he knew he wasn’t the only one who wanted to keep doing this – whatever this was. He thought maybe he’d been way over his head the other night. He was tired, and flustered, and he couldn’t trust himself to interpret Sejun’s meaning. 

But he had come after all, he’d kept his promise to come at time where he could see him. Also, now that Seungsik thought about it, the bakery wasn't even near Sejun’s home, if he trusted the bus stop he’d gotten off at, and it was a Saturday, after a final test. Seungsik hadn’t been out of college long enough to forget nobody had class on a Saturday, after the last test of the semester. So it had to mean Sejun had come specifically to see him and that was a boost to his esteem. He felt validated with the proof that he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection. 

With this newly-found confidence, he felt bold enough to ask, “How about you repay me in another way?”

Sejun played the game, following him without missing a step. “And how would that be?”

“How about,” Seungsik paused for a second, psyching himself. “How about you invite me to dinner sometime?” 

Sejun seemed surprised by his boldness, but not put-off. On the contrary, he laughed loudly, tilting his head back and smacking his thigh. 

“You know what,” he said, “I would absolutely love to take you out for dinner.”

They both stood, smiling mindlessly at each other. Seungsik felt giddy to the bones, a happy and bubbly feeling bursting inside his tummy. The anticipation was a nice feeling for once. It had been a long time since he’d look towards something with so much expectation. They didn’t have anything planned yet, but still, he couldn’t wait to actually go out with Sejun, get to know him and spend time with him. 

He was shaken out of his stupor when Subin – had he mentioned he was the ban of his existence? – once again called for him.

“Boss,” he said, which meant business, because he only called him that when he needed something at work. “We’re getting low on chocolate muffins and you know we’ll get more people looking for them later.”

It was true. They usually got a wave of clients in the evening, when people came back home after a day at work and were looking for something sweet to celebrate the wee-end. Chocolate was the go-to for comfort food. It was still early afternoon and he had time to make some more before the evening rush. If he made too many, he could always bring them to his lovely neighbor.

“I got it,” he told him. 

He turned to Sejun. “I’m sorry. I have work to do.”

“It’s okay,” the other said. “I’m sorry I took your time at work.”

“I’m glad you did,” Seungsik replied honestly. He was. He had thought he’d never see Sejun again, but here he was, planning a date with him. The word itself felt weird in his mind. A date. It had been so long since he had one.

He took one of the business cards they kept near the register and a pencil, and wrote down his personal number. He’d berate himself too much last time to forget it now. 

“Here,” he said. “Take my number. I have to go now but you can text me to tell me exactly where you plan to take me to dinner.”

He winked for good measure. He was feeling good, daring. 

Sejun took the card and looked at it before carefully putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket. “I’ll do that.” 

They stared at each other again, before the bell on the door chimed loudly, causing them to break the eye contact.

“I’ll get going then,” Sejun said, starting to back off from the counter. “I’ll text you.”

“You better,” Seungsik told him, his smile taking of the edge of his warning. 

With a final wave, and another chime from the bell, Sejun was outside the door, still smiling at him. Seungsik watched as he took a few steps before taking it out his cellphone and a piece of paper from his pocket.

Satisfied, he turned around and went back to the kitchen. The cinnamon rolls had still some time left in the oven, so he started making a new batch of muffins. 

Work kept him distracted for a couple of hours, the constant influx of clients keeping him occupied throughout the afternoon. Even Subin didn’t have much time to tease him, and he knew he was dying to roast him. He was grateful he was too busy to text Chan and Seungwoo. Knowing them, if they had wind of what happened in the bakery, they’d already be here to pry more details out of him. Well, Chan would nag and annoy him while Seungwoo watched in silence, sticking to Subin like his shadow and not coming to his defense. His friends hated him, but he wouldn’t change them for anything in the world.

After a couple of hours of relentless work, he finally had some time to rest. It was later in the afternoon and he’d already started to clean the kitchen for the day. In a lull between clients, he took out his cellphone, which had been left forgotten in his pocket.

His stomach twisted with excitement when he saw a text notification. It could be from any of his friends or family, but he was hoping for someone else. With anticipation, he opened his text app and, among other texts, sat the one he had been waiting for.

**Unknown number: you still have my umbrella.**

Seungsik smiled. He was glad Sejun wasn’t following any of these “wait 3 days” rules, which were stupid and a waste of time in his opinion. If he liked someone, he didn’t want to wait. Pressing a fews buttons, he added the number to his contact list.

**Seungsik: maybe i’m taking it hostage to make sure you come back.**

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. He was looking through some mail when a new notification popped up.

**Sejun: i don’t need an umbrella to go see you ;)**

**Sejun: i’ll come for the pastries**

**Seungsik: i see how it is**

**Sejun: lol i'm joking**

**Sejun: i like the cute baker too**

Seungsik muffled a squeal with his hand. He didn’t need Subin to get curious and ask him who he was texting. 

Before he could reply, a new text came in.

**Sejun: but really, the pastries are great too**

**Seungsik: how would you know, you didn’t even eat anything earlier!!**

**Sejun: *gasp***

**Sejun: i didn’t have time!!**

**Sejun: you had work to do, remember?**

**Sejun: also, your employee was giving me stinky eyes.**

**Seungsik: subin? i don’t think so lol**

**Seungsik: he’s just a nosy kid**

**Sejun: hmm if you say so**

**Sejun: anyway, i’m gonna be a regular soon enough, you know. i have to pay your bills, after all.**

**Seungsik: i thought we’d established you’d get an indigestion lol**

**Sejun: well, you know, a cute baker once told me “one dessert at a time”**

**Sejun: idk about you, but it seems like great advice**

**Seungsik: yeah…**

**Seungsik: one dessert at a time seems great :)**

He put his phone down, smiling from ear to ear. They had yet to decide a date and a place for dinner, but he felt excited already, full of anticipation. Sure, he didn’t know much about Sejun: he liked eating, he was funny, he liked kids, and he was nice. That was pretty much it. But something told him there were many great things to discover. And he had time, after all.


End file.
